


Prince of fire

by Justafan



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Magic, Violence, and run a kingdom, my bois are just trying to heal, some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-16 06:33:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17544551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justafan/pseuds/Justafan
Summary: Neil's a prince of Baltimore Court. Andrew's king of the Foxhole court. They are arranged to be married. lots of magic, deception and possibly love involved.





	1. A world burning

The Baltimore court is a ruthless place. Many courts hide their cruelty within whispers, deceptions, closed doors. Nothing can protect you here. The butcher (never has he been referred to as the king, that could cost you a tongue) was vicious and blunt, with all unspoken laws of court being abandoned in Baltimore. Citizens were either violent criminals or slaves that had been beaten into submission. I am neither. Actually, I might be both.

Nathaniel Wesninski was meant to die 7 years ago, when he left the castle with his mother, the Queen. That was my Mother's plan. We were to fled to the monarchy in Brittania, my Mother’s homeland, to be welcomed by her brother and brother in law, the Kings. We were to both die, and from there new aliases born, I was going to be called Neil. That wasn't how it went.

I survived. I am Nathaniel Wesninski, son of the Butcher, heir to the Baltimore throne.

The Butcher's guard had caught us leaving the castle, alerting my Father immediately. My Father, after executing Mary with a cruel laugh and a swing of his unhesitating flame, dragged me back to the castle by my matching auburn hair, a hand muffling my screams. Not that it would have been much use, screaming is too common in Baltimore to warrant any help from its citizens.

From there I was taken to his throne room. My screams, now free, filled the vast hall for hours. Yet I didn't die. He couldn't kill me. I was still useful to him. So he placed enchanted shackles on my wrists, provided by his resident witch Lola. They stung as he put them on my burned arms, yet looked as if they melted away on my skin.

“These will keep you here Junior.” My father had spoken with a cruel sneer. “You can't see them, but I will be able to control how far you come and go. Try to leave, there will be consequences.” 

With one last press on my marred cheek, me hissing at the pain, he had left. I couldn't cry, the tears burned. I didn't know what to do. I would have asked my mum, but all that had been left of her was ash scattered on the courtyard. I had curled up in a ball, watching the flames dance across the fireplace, remembering that same fire dancing across my skin as my father, carefully trained in the magic of controlling it, manipulated the fire across my body.

Now, I don't dwell on that day. The scars are reminders enough. I do my duties, like a subdued slave. I contribute to my family’s vicious reputation, like a violent criminals. But I will never give up, when I rule, my own fire power will burn this court down and I with it. I just need to wait, to survive.

I'm training with Romero in the courtyard as usual. He and his sister, Lola often train me, or torture me, depending on who you ask. 

Today he’s in a bad mood, which is why he’s armed with two knives and why I am unarmed, both in weapons and physically, as he has tied one arm behind my back. “We are preparing you for all situations” they laughed, when I had first started training with them. Now, I didn't bother asking, knowing it would make their smiles larger and their fights crueler.

I had just managed to get one of the knives off Romero at only the expense of ten slashes around my face and arms, and decided it would be fun to flykick him straight in the jaw. Then I became aware of the door opening. Probably Lola, who would often join in when I looked most defenseless, I made certain that it looked like I had the upper hand, even with only one hand.

Once I landed the kick to the jaw, and Romero was on the ground, albeit only for a moment, I heard a low whistle behind me.

I straightened up, I knew that whistle. I turned to face my father, head bowed.

“Now where’s that little spark, that was there only moments ago?” The butcher sneered. “I wish you had the guts to do that to me. But you're pathetic, and as such, will never unlock you power.”

He spat at the ground, eyeing me up, I could feel his gaze but I didn't dare look up to match it. He had just come back from a neighbouring kingdom, probably the Raven court, and he did not sound pleased.

“My son.”

His voice almost sounded kind. Almost.

“You were destined to lead this place, your fire could burn the whole world.”

I started to get anxious, knowing that if he activated my shackles, I would have no choice but t burn anything at his command. I imagined what burning alive felt like. I imagined what burning him would feel like.

“Tut, tut. Such a shame.”

What did he mean, I ask myself? Was he finally going to kill me, was I to suffer the fate my mother did? Did I even care?

“Lola is with child.”

My heart dropped. I don't want to die. Not in this place, not alone. Not by fire, the very thing that makes me feel whole.

“He will make a fine heir, and as such, you are no longer needed in this court.”

My ears are ringing, I try to stop my hands from shaking, but the tremors resonate throughout my body.

“All you are going to be useful for is a pretty little slut.” What?

“Though I’m pretty sure you've already fucked up the pretty part.”

“Wait, what?” I spoke, bewildered, and forgetting myself.

I was quickly reminded by my father’s burning hand, slapping me on the shoulder.

“You, my pathetic son, are engaged.”

I couldn't help it, my breaths became ragged and the sudden urge to use my power combined with my inability to. 

I fainted.

When I came to, I was in my room and I wasn't alone. Romero and Lola were there, ordering servants about, getting them to fetch something or the other. Voices sounded muffled to me.  
Pain consumed me, and I already know that my father didn't appreciate my fainting.

“Hello, love.” Lola turned to me, all sweet and simpering smiles. “Take it you heard the good news,” she spoke whilst rubbing her stomach.

“Whatevers gonna come out of you, I’m sure no one will be calling it ‘good’.” 

“You watch that fucking tongue.” She spoke, smile gone and replaced with a blow to the head.  
“Hopefully your betrothed will cut it off.”

Romero smirked from beside her, “For all the tales we hear of the the Foxhole Court king, it seems likely that he will.”

The Foxhole court. A rough but esteemed court, full of refugees and the abandoned. They're also a new and upcoming force, not as eager to bow to the Raven Court’s will. There king had a reputation that even I, stuck in the castle, have heard the rumours. The knives. The suspicious death of his mother, the former queen. The anger issue. He was often called a monster.

“I am marrying King Minyard?” I couldn't believe it, why the Foxhole’s king could possibly be stupid enough to marry the Butcher’s son, after they have been rebelling against the Moriyama kingdom.

Lola laughed, “You're marrying the monster, we’ve managed to subdue their court with a marriage treaty and managed to get rid of you, what a lucky time Baltimore’s having.”

She leaned in close, “I'm hoping he’ll kill you nice and slowly, just as I have always wanted to. I imagine my child becoming king, while you scatter, like the useless ash we know you are.”

I spat in her face.

She slashed my cheek, irritating the burn scars.

“I’ll be fixing that face, so I can destroy it as much as I want while glamouring you. Don't give me reason to.”

Oh. They were going to change my face, obviously. It would be a seriously bad move to show that your giving your weakest asset to be married of for peace.

Lola quickly began working, Romero left the room, bored that she was focusing on magic and not hurting me. I let her do it, feeling too tired to fight her.

Instead, I let my mind wander to the Foxhole Court, it was rather far from here, but still within my father's grasp. I wondered what the King is like, what kind of monster he was. I know all types of monsters, I could withstand another one, provided he doesn't kill me first. I imagined what it would be like leaving this place, the castle I had spent my whole life in, simply to go to another prison. At least i could enjoy the view on the way there. Breathe in air that didn't taste burnt.

“Aw, you look a right picture when you're not all scarred up, prettyboy. Just like a younger version of your father.”

Her gaze lingered, as it often did. She never went far, mostly just stares and too long touches.

“Maybe you could charm the monster, beg all nice and pretty for him.”

Pretty. I hated that word so much. Pretty boy, come here pretty. Almost everyone in the court called me it at one point. It made me feel worthless, which I would never admit.

“Alright, you're good to go. I'd say I’ll miss you, but there will always be another punching bag.” Lola smirked. “Plus I’ll be way to busy preparing for my son.”

“I'm leaving now?”

“Yes, right away. You're father has meetings to attend to and the Foxhole have sent a carriage along to come pick you up.”

She moved closer to me, “Listen here, you even try to run away, and we’ll now. The reins for your magic will be given to your husband but we will always know where you are and I will not hesitate to gut you and gouge your eyes out for disobeying.”

The memory of her doing this sprung to mind, she did enjoy removing the eyes.

She smiled again, “So you be good, okay pretty boy?”

And with that she left. A servant appeared at the door, and gestured for me to get up. I followed him all through the castle, taking in the dark corners and memories that surrounded me. We past the courtyard where I could still smell burning flesh, still hear my mother screaming. The scent and noise followed me until we reached the main doors. The ones I hadn't passed for 7 years.

They opened so easily and unremarkably, as if the whole time I’d been trapped here was just blown away. The past. I had to look forward, to help me survive.

I stepped outside, releasing a breath I didn't know I had been holding. 

The first thing I noticed was the carriage, orange. I’d almost laughed, I couldn't believe it.

I was going to a new kingdom, to marry a monster that I have never met, and I was being taken there in an orange carriage. Hardy-fucking-har.

A man was standing beside the colourful monstrosity, tall and with sleeves decked in tribal tattoos.

“Prince Nathaniel,” He bowed his head as I walked nearer, but I couldn't help but flinched as he suddenly drew his arm out. A handshake. That was all he wanted, I cursed my weakness.

“I am Sir David Wymack, royal advisor, though for some reason all of the foxes call me coach. Pleasure to meet you.”

He had a tight and firm grip, I wondered how he threw a punch. 

“Nathaniel, likewise,” I replied, attempting yet failing at making eye contact.

“Well, we should get going if we want to get back before dark. Shall we wait for your Majesty to see you off?”

“No,” I said hurriedly, then, composing myself. “My father has already bid me farewell.”

God, I hadn't missed court customs, thinking back to when I used to travel to other kingdoms and then get cuffed in the head whenever I spoke out of turn. The occasional burn or bruise turned me into the most chivalrous of gentlemen. Well, when I could hold me tongue.

“In that case,” Wymack said unquestioningly, “let's be off.”

He opened the door to the carriage and I stepped inside. Wymack followed and then shut the door behind him. I was very aware of the limited space between us, though I would not show it.  
Wymack gestured to the driver and then we were off. I looked outside, towards the dark looming castle. Watching as it grew smaller and smaller. It was a long age before it finally disappeared from my sight. I smiled as it was wiped from my view.

“So, your highness,” Wymack shifted in his seat, and seemed to be more relaxed now they had left. “You are betrothed to King Minyard, good luck kid.”


	2. What's in a name? My Father

I turned my head to assess this man properly, his royal demeanour had been stripped and what remained was a gruff, kind smiled (forced, most likely). I decided I didn't trust him.

“Alright, not a talker.” Wymack spoke, and his arm moved to grab something. I not so subtly flinched, and Wymack pretended not to notice but moved noticeably slower. He pulled out a stack of papers.

He made himself look busy.

I pretended to sleep.

We made a good pair.

…………………

Eventually the carriage slowed to a stop.

“We're here.” Wymack said. 

Obvious. “Hmm.”

He opened the door and stepped out, I let out a long breath, then followed.

It seemed brighter, this court. Orange flags, the sun.

It blinded me.

I thought that this ought to be a court that hides it's cruelty behind a mask.

“Heavens!” A voice came as the main doors opened, attached to a body that flew down the main steps.

“Now look at this one!” dark hair, golden skin. The man was talking about me.

“Coach, where did you find this gorgeous man, are you trying to tempt me away from my beloved Eric?” the man raised his hand as if to touch my hair, but i stepped back quickly, looking at Wymack.

“Right, Nicky that's enough.” Wymack said, reaching into the carriage to fetch my bag.

“I'll get it,” I spoke, reaching in to take it before Wymack could get to it. He looked at me oddly, but didn't hit me so I guess that was a bonus.

Of course they're not going to discipline me immediately, they've got to make sure I become one of them first. Then I will be nothing but another object, a pawn in a game where I can't win and can be easily destroyed.

“Well, handsome. My name is Nicholas Hemmick, call me Nicky. I handle foreign affairs, are you a foreign dignitary that Andrew has forgotten to tell me about?” He asked the question while staring accusingly at Wymack. I felt there may be some lack of communication.

“Actually i'm-”

“Right, enough with the chit chat, don't you have a job to do Hemmick? We have our own business to attend to and you have a meeting with Minyard.”

“Ugh, it's hardly a meeting if he doesn't speak to me. Plus our guest is much more easy on the eyes than my cousin.”

Cousin? This ball of energy was related to the king. Interesting.

“Gonna pretend I didn't hear that. Off you go Nicky.”

Nicky hmphed, but flounced off.

Harmless, I noted.

“Sorry about him, you'll get used to it.”

I nodded at Wymack, and followed him as he went up the steps and disappeared inside the castle.

It was rather quiet, and fairly similar to Baltimore, minus the occasional screams.

I watched as a group of servant girls past us, talking among themselves. They nudged at each other and giggled while looking at me. I presumed they wouldn't get their tongues out for that by the ay Wymack just rolled his eyes and said, “move along girls.”

They walked for what seemed like an age, until they reached a door, which wymack unlocked then stepped into.

It was a grand bedroom, a king bed in the corner, couch under the window, chairs and a table next to the fireplace and empty bookshelves. But what caught me eye was the balcony, open and massive looking onto the whole kingdom. I felt free just looking at it.

“This is yours. At least until the wedding, then other arrangements may be made. You shall have a member of the guard assigned to you, but for now come with me to meet Minyard and the rest. They shall all be in a meeting right now, at least, if they've all decided to follow orders today. You can leave your bag here.”

I held onto it tighter, “I think I would rather keep it on me sir, if you wouldn't mind.”

“Sir? Oh kid, you'll make me feel old.” Wymack turned to the corner where there was a large oak drawer. 

“There's only one set of keys that open these, put your bag in there.”

I walked to the drawers and, with a pause, dropped my bag in. it was mostly empty, but it was mine. Contained my only belongings which hadn't been taken from me. It was pretty hard to let go.

Wymack locked it and then held the keys out towards me. I took them slowly, and watched to see if he wanted them back. He did not.

Instead he walked out of the room, and, gripping the keys tight in my hand, I followed.

They reached a room, and for a moment I’d figured we had gone to the wrong place, for all the racket that could be heard.

Yet Wymack only sighed heavily and opened the door, leading me to believe this was a common occurrence.

The noise level only increased when we stepped inside, as I took in a bunch of people sitting around a table, laughing and shouting over each other. At the head of the table there sat a small blond, saying nothing and looking as if he wasn't even here. Then he caught my eye, and he grinned. It reminded me of the butcher, and my blood ran cold.

“Everyone shut it!” Wymack shouted. I flinched away, then ,realising how pathetic it must have looked, I straightened up and looked straight ahead. I also avoided looking at the blond again. I couldn't care less how he smiled. Honest.

“Alright, if everyone is done with the nonsensical drivel they call gossip, maybe we can finally get started on running this kingdom. yes , foxes?”

“Yes, Coach.” They replied.

Nicky, the one whom I’d met before, was also sitting at the table. Well, you could say at the table, he was sitting on someone’s lap. “Gorgeous boy! Pleasure to see you again.” He nudged the person he was sitting on, “Eric, this is how I was talking about.”

“I can see that, my love.” He spoke, only in German. I pretended not to know what he was saying. Never show all your cards, the butcher would say to me during lessons.

Never let anyone know what you know.

“Who are you?” A voice called out, sounding snide. “Other than another boy for Nicky to creep on.”

I looked at him, and found myself staring at an identical to the grinning blond. This one was looking at me in anger.

Speaking of the devil, the blond began to tut, his face returned to impassive. “Careful Aaron, that's not how you speak to fellow royalty.”

At this a lot of people began to murmur along themselves, and Aaron, looked at his identical with confusion.

“Right everyone, I’ve got no time for this drama.” Wymack spoke. “ Allow me to introduce Prince Nathaniel Wesninski, of the Baltimore Court.”

Now at that there was a further uproar, “A Wesninski, here?” “Andrew has officially lost his mind.” “I didn't know the butcher had a son, didn't he die?”

Aaron spoke again, this time with a rage in his voice that made me step back. “What is this cruel, arrogant dick doing here, and how soon can we send him away in a body bag, Andrew?”

“Now now,” the blond, presumably Andrew, spoke. There were still murmurs so he raised his hand expectantly. The room fell silent.  
“I don't know why all you well mannered people, are offering such a rude welcome to my betrothed.”

Nicky let out a faint gasp, and promptly fainted.

“Oh for the Gods sakes,” Wymack muttered, along with something to do with his pay grade.

“Eric, help Nicky up and bring him to his room, would you?” A woman spoke with authority, she had short hair and a face that dealt with no nonsense.

“Yes Dan.” And with that the German picked up a half present Nicky and carried him out of the room bridal style.

“On behalf of all of us,” the girl, Dan, spoke, “I'd like to apologise. Welcome to the Foxhole court. I'm Dan Wilds, head of the Royal Guard.”

“And I'm Matt,” said the guy sitting beside her. “Member of the Royal guard.”

“You've met Nicky already,” Dan scoffed. “The man with him was Erik, his fiance. Those two over there are Allison and Seth.” 

Allison was a meticulously styled blonde, who was looking at me with a smirk. Seth was glaring at her.

“That is Aaron, Andrew’s twin. I'm presuming you're acquainted with Andrew?”

“Nice to meet you, Wesninski.” Andrew said, answering Dan’s not so subtle jab for information.

“Andrew,” Aaron hissed, “Why didn't you tell me that-

“Everyone, I'm getting rather bored of you all. Leave.” 

And it seems that that was that. Everyone got up, even Aaron though he did look at Andrew for a moment before glaring at me, and left the room. Wymack was one of the last to leave and I went to follow him.

“Wymack.” He paused at Andrew’s voice, causing me to almost bump into him.

“What now Andrew?”

“Fetch Renee for me, and leave the princeling here.”

“As you wish.”

I turned around and looked at Andrew.

The king. The monster. My soon to be husband.

“You could have just asked me to stay.”

“Ah!” Andrew’s grin returned. “It speaks.”

I'm going to get killed. I knew this, as he has antagonised me already. It's only so long before I snapped. 

“Nathaniel, I've got no time. I have a kingdom to run and can't have any problems. Are you a problem?”

“No.” 

“Then why have you arrived glamoured?”

Shit. shit, shit shit.

“Um- sorry what?”

“I have already told you I don't have time for problems. Lies are problems. False faces are problems.”

“Don't worry,” I scoffed, sitting down on one of the chairs, the exit and Andrew always in view.   
“I don't have any problems with you or your kingdom.”

“And you're glamoured because?”

“I don't know, Lola did it. Said it would make me look…” I trailed off, my voice choking on the word.

Andrew looked at him expectantly.

“Pretty,” I sighed.

Andrew seemed neither satisfied or not with the answer, so I suppose it will have to do.

“Doesn't matter anyway. Renee will be here soon to undo it.”

“Wait, no.” 

“Why not?”

I stumbled, my brain searching for an answer that might appeal to him.

“You - you might not like what you see.”

“Who says I already like what I see.”

Well, first of all, rude. Just as I was about to bite back a response, a pale haired girl walked in. she was dressed in a loose dress that flowed around her, making her look ethereal.

I backed away, witches were not to be trusted.

“Hello Andrew,” she nodded to him. “And you must be Nathaniel.” Oh how I hated that name, as if it wasn't bad enough that the butcher was my Father, my name had to belong to him as well. She smiled sweetly at me and held out her hand, withdrawing it after the few moments I didn't take it.

“Andrew, I assumed you called me here because you needed something?”

“His glamour.” He spoke, as if the answer was obvious.

She turned back to me again, this time focusing on my face. I wanted to turn away, but instead levelled her with my own steel gaze.

“I wouldn't have noticed, someone did a fine job.”

“Fine, not good. Remove it.” Andrew said.

“I might take a while. It is a full body glamour. I'll need Abby to assist.” She clicked her finger, and a flash of blue danced on her hand for a moment.

“Gods, you'd think that if someone would go through the effort to glamour you they’d make you at least a bit taller.” Andrew smirked.

“Says you short-stack,” I spoke, then dug my nails into my palms. I can't even go ten minutes, stay out of trouble, I told myself.

Yet Andrew only showed his forced grin again, probably saving his punishment for later.

“Nathaniel, will you allow me to strip your glamour?”

“No.”

“Nathaniel,” Andrew tutted, “That's not very honest, nor an appropriate attitude to have.”

“Gods would you stop calling me that?” Nathaniel. Nathaniel. The word made me sick.

Andrew looked at me, and I could have sworn I saw a gleam of intrigue in his eyes.

“It's okay,” Renee said, and shot a look at Andrew. “What would you like us to call you.”

What? I could choose, “Um, well- Neil. call me Neil.”

“Well Neil.” Andrew began, “get that glamour removed and maybe we can finally get to talking about the terms of our marriage. However I will not negotiate with someone who I don’t believe is real.” he walked towards me, as he got close I realised that although he was physically smaller, he brought with him an energy. Something dark, and it consumed him.

“Show me the real you. Then we can talk.”

Golden eyes blazed, and I met his stare. I wouldn't let myself be the first to look away, yet he was overwhelming me. This was going to be a challenge, I knew.

“Yes or no?”

A choice. Did I have a choice? He spoke to me as if I did. I could be difficult, say no, but my wounds were still hurting from this mornings training session, so I thought it better to just go along with his orders.

For now.

“Yes.”


End file.
